


Crazy

by Everyday_Im_Narrating



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Argent family feels, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Kidfic, allison and isaac are six, but super light, camden is ten, this is mostly family fluff I swear, very veiled reference to Isaac and Cam's past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 15:46:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7058860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everyday_Im_Narrating/pseuds/Everyday_Im_Narrating
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris Argent's life had been chaotic since his wife passed away, leaving him alone to take care of little Allison. It became even more chaotic once he took in his daughter's best friend, Isaac, and his big brother, both of whom had lost their only remaining parent. Some called him crazy, or said he'd bitten off more than he could chew. Maybe they were right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crazy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crossroadswrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossroadswrite/gifts).



> I've been really in the mood for kidfic lately (when am I not?) and this fic was a way to combine all the things I love most: Argent family feels, Chris being an a+ parent, my eternal love for Camden Lahey and his relationship with his little brother, and sleepy children. That, and Rita is a big enabler. :)
> 
> (CW for one ableist slur in the middle. It is used by one of the kids and then immediately reprimanded.)

Chris didn’t like to tell a lot of people what went on in his personal life, but the few who’d found out about the newest development had called him crazy. He could see their point - it hadn’t even been six months since Victoria died, and neither he nor Allison had quite gone back to normal. But when Allison’s best friend, Isaac, who had barely known his mother at all, lost his father with no other family to look after him and his big brother, Chris wasn’t about to let them end up in the system. 

That way, their little family of two ended up doubling in size overnight; Chris, who still sometimes felt like it was impossible to be a good father to Allison without Victoria, found himself suddenly responsible for two six-year-olds and a ten-year-old boy. Maybe he really was crazy.

Camden, the older boy, was so preoccupied in making sure Isaac was okay that he didn’t seem to have any time to not be okay himself. Chris had seen this kind of behavior - had learned it each time he had to smile reassuringly at Allison and tell her they would be okay, even though there were few things he was _less_ sure of - but this kid was ten years old. It was too soon for him to learn to compartmentalize. Chris told himself to keep a close eye on Camden, to remind him it was okay to need help and comfort too, that the little one was a priority but so was he. So far, though, he had been remarkably stoic, if a little too serious. The only thing that made him perk up a little, almost a week after moving in, was finding out that his new guardian sold guns for a living.

Chris took him down to where he kept the weapons and let him go through all of them, reciting their names one by one. Let him hold one, too, with the safety lock on and no bullets in the chamber; the first time he saw the boy smile was when he quietly confessed that he wanted to be a soldier when he grew up.

“To protect my country”, he’d explained with a shy smile when Chris asked him why. “To be a hero.”

One thing that was crystal clear was that in Isaac’s eyes, Camden already was as much of a hero as a ten-year-old could ever be. The boy followed him everywhere, insisting that Camden - not Chris - help him wash his hair or do his homework; when it was time to go to sleep, he gladly accepted Chris’s goodnight kiss on the forehead, but it was Camden who’d sit with him in the bedroom they shared (Chris had really just added a second bed to the guest room) and read him a story until he fell asleep. It was only natural, then, that when Camden’s best friend - Derek Hale, Talia’s son - invited him for a sleepover, there was a debate in the house.

Isaac didn’t want him to be gone the whole night. Camden had almost backed out of going altogether, but Chris assured him that he should go (he should be a kid and have fun, for God’s sake) and that his little brother would be completely fine with him and Allison. It couldn’t be too hard.

So that Friday, after Talia picked up Derek and Camden from school, Chris took Allison and Isaac straight to the mall. His goal was clear: to tire out the kids so that bedtime would come around with minimal disruption, be it from anxiety or the arguments that constantly erupted between the two when they were tired but too keyed up to sleep. Together, they watched a movie - a Disney animation that Chris paid very little attention to, but both children seemed to love it - then ate burgers at the food court, and Chris was even willing to shell out some money for a couple of hours at the ridiculously overpriced arcade. By the time they traded in their tickets and left - Allison with a stuffed giraffe, Isaac with a big pack of stickers, Chris practically hearing his wallet sigh - it seemed to have been a very successful afternoon. The kids were happy, even singing along to the radio on their way home, and after a shower and a light dinner, they seemed perfectly content to just sit at the living room table and color until bedtime.

It was honestly too easy. Allison settled in with her new giraffe on Camden’s bed, an idea she’d had all on her own when Isaac said he didn’t want to sleep by himself. Chris tucked them both in and read them a quick story ( _Oh The Places You’ll Go,_ the only Dr Seuss book that no kid ever seemed to get tired of) before pressing a goodnight kiss to each rosy forehead and quietly leaving the bedroom, both Allison and Isaac already fast asleep. If he high-fived himself on the way out for a remarkably successful day of parenting, well, no one else was there to see it. Victoria would have been proud.

In his six and a half years of being a father, there were two things Chris would always, always be grateful for.

One: his little girl was healthy and smart, and was growing into a kind, strong-willed person who would accomplish great things someday.

Two: she’d been a fantastically sound sleeper from day one. Even as a baby, the only times she _wouldn’t_ sleep through the night were when she was sick (Chris vividly remembered those six months in which his poor Ally would be in the ER every two weeks with terribly swollen tonsils; she ended up spending the day after her fourth birthday getting them taken out) or, later on, the weeks after Victoria’s death, during which she would crawl under her father’s blanket in the middle of the night and hold onto him as tightly as her little fists could seize his shirt. It still happened sometimes, but very rarely now; Allison actually hadn’t done it in almost two whole months, which was a victory. Not that he didn’t love having his little girl next to him, but sleeping through the night again was a clear sign that she was getting better, back to her usual self.

So naturally, when he was woken by a soft little hand on his cheek while the sky was still entirely dark outside, Chris could only interpret it as a sign of something going wrong.

“What’s the matter, princess?” His voice was still rough from sleep, Allison’s face unfocused until he blinked hard several times. “Did you have a bad dream? Are you sick?”

Allison shook her head, but reached for his hand and tugged on it impatiently.

“No, I’m okay, but Isaac’s crying ‘n sleeping ‘n I can’t wake him up.”

Right. Just a nightmare. Nothing serious. Chris considered for a moment just going back to sleep, but damn it, he had responsibilities and was going to stick to them. With a wistful look of goodbye to his warm blanket, he stood up and let Allison guide him to the guest bedroom, where Isaac’s bed was occupied by a first-grader-sized lump under the Buzz Lightyear comforter. Allison hopped right on the bed and put her little hand on the lump’s knee, patting lightly but obtaining no response.

“Isaac?” He called quietly, to which a mop of unruly blond curls and two wide, blue eyes peeked out from under Buzz’s face. At least he was somewhat awake now. “Did you have a bad dream?”

Isaac responded with an emphatic nod, his eyes still big and scared like he wasn’t sure if he’d woken up yet. So Chris did the only thing he knew - took a seat on the bed and draped an arm securely around the blanket-wrapped boy, tugging him close, only to find out he was shaking.

“Sweetheart, you’re okay.” He muttered. To his surprise, Isaac shook his head, tears rolling down his cheeks with the movement. “You are. Whatever that was, it was just a dream. Nothing bad’s gonna happen, I promise.”

The boy hiccupped as he pressed himself closer. “I’m sorry”, he let out. “’msosorry, I didn’t mean to- I was asleep and then I was really scared and when I woke up I - I promise I won’t do it again!”

It was Allison who asked, “What are you talking about?”

And with a very shaky pair of hands, Isaac pulled the comforter away from his body to reveal the result of the nightmare - the large wet patch down the front of his pants and on a part of his sheets.

Well, fuck.

Chris was about to tell him it was okay. That it was an accident and he obviously wouldn’t be angry about an accident. But Allison - who, for all her maturity, was still a six-year-old girl - beat him to it, and not in the way he hoped.

“You _peed your pants?_ That’s for babies." She giggled. “You’re a baby!”

Allison laughed like it was the funniest thing she’d seen all day, and Chris was going to try and chide her when the boy’s voice, still thick with tears, surprised him just as much as how fast he’d lifted his little hand.

“Shut _up,_ you fucking retard!”

Chris got a hold of Isaac’s wrist just as he moved to hit Allison, managing to grab it before his hand could collide with her cheek. Allison tried to fight back, but Chris grasped her shoulder with his free hand, and what hours ago had been a peaceful night somehow turned into Chris trying to keep his cool while holding two squirming children away from each other.

“Dad, let me go!”

“She started it!”

“He was gonna hit me! You _told_ me if someone hurts me I’m not s’posed to just let them!”

“I’m not a baby!”

“ _Enough!”_  

This time, Chris really did yell. He had yelled at Allison maybe twice in her entire life; it was enough to get them both to shut up and to make Isaac start shaking again, harder than before. He decided to go for him first. 

“Isaac. You don’t use that kind of vocabulary, and you _don’t_ hit people unless they hit you first. _Especially_ not a girl.” He made his voice stern, but returned it to its usual pitch, not without effort. There was nothing he tolerated less than anyone - no matter how old - trying to hurt his little girl. “Those words you used are horrible and hurtful and you can’t say them to _anyone_ , do you hear me?”

Much to his surprise, Isaac didn’t argue, just nodded quickly, his eyes darting from Chris to Allison and back as if he were expecting either of them to hit _him_ instead. It was far too early for Chris to think about the implications of this reaction; what he did was loosen his hold on the skinny wrist until Isaac snatched it away and wrapped both arms around his own little legs, as tight as they would go.

Jesus.

Nothing to do but keep going.

“Now, Allison. Your friend had an accident. You don’t laugh at people when they’re scared.” He released her shoulder too. Unlike Isaac, Allison assumed a much more defiant posture, her arms folded in front of her chest.

“He called me a bad word.”

“I already told him he shouldn’t have. But you called him a baby first. That’s not okay, either.”

“What he said was worse!”

“I know, and I talked to him already. We’re talking about _you_ now.”

“And why can’t I hit him? He was about to hit me, Dad, you saw it! I was trying to self-defend myself!”

Chris just wanted to _sleep._

“If I weren’t around and he was about to hit you, you could. That’s self-defense and it’s totally okay.” He explained tiredly. “But I was here, and I was holding him back, Ally. Hurting someone who can’t fight back isn’t something we do.”

Allison deflated at the explanation, some of her indignation visibly ebbing away as her little shoulders sagged.

“I still want him to say sorry.” She pouted. Pouty Allison he could handle. Angry Allison was a force to be reckoned with, even in My Little Pony pajamas and polka-dot socks.

“He _will_ say sorry, and you will too, after you both cool down. Now, Isaac...”

During the interaction between Chris and Allison, Isaac had crawled his way up the bed until he was pressed into the corner, his back against one wall and face against the other, still trembling. Something was a lot more wrong than initially anticipated. It was normal for a kid to be scared when an adult was upset with them or yelled, but not this much. And combined with his panicked reaction to wetting himself... Well, the picture was just getting uglier.

Suddenly, Chris found that a part of him was glad Martin Lahey wasn’t around anymore.

“Dad? ‘S he okay?” Allison asked worriedly.

“Isaac?”

He reached out a hand to touch the boy’s arm and immediately regretted it when he flinched.

“I’m okay. ‘M okay. All okay.” He repeated, apparently more to himself than to anyone else.

Allison moved closer and took Isaac’s hand in hers; this time he didn’t pull back. Maybe the problem was Chris. He stayed put, not touching the boy, but speaking to him in a much softer tone than he had before.

“Isaac. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” He shook his head, an almost frantic edge to his movements.

“No, it’s something. You’re not in trouble, okay?”

That made Isaac look up from where his face had been hidden. He looked... Doubtful, to say the least.

“But I was bad.”

“You weren’t _that_ bad.” Allison muttered, though Chris could see she was still a little hurt by the words her friend had used. He decided to interfere.

“The important thing is that we talked and you understand what you did wrong. You understand, don’t you?”

Isaac nodded, squeezing Allison’s hand tight.

“Then tell me what it was. Just so we’re clear.”

“I called Allison a bad word. Two. Two bad words.” He swallowed audibly. “And then I tried to hit her.”

“Did you mean it?” Allison asked quietly.

“No, I was just mad ‘cause you called me a baby and I’m _not_. But you’re not a...” He glanced at Chris, who in turn gave him a warning look. “... That thing I said. You’re really smart.”

His response brought a little smile to Allison’s lips.

“And _you’re_ not a baby. You just did a baby thing.”

Isaac was looking a little less scared, though his free arm was still holding his knees to his skinny chest like they were going to fall off if he didn’t. Progress was still progress, Chris figured.

“Now, Isaac, what do you say to Allison?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Ally?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry too.”

“We still friends?”

Instead of answering right away, Allison leaned in and pressed a small, noisy kiss to the boy’s cheek.

“ _Best_  friends. And brother’n’sister.”

“Cool.” Isaac smiled back honestly, then turned his head to look at Chris. “I’m really not in trouble? Even though I said that stuff and almost hit Allison and - and...?” He pointed vaguely at the wet spot on the bed, embarrassment flashing red on his cheeks. “ _Why?”_

“Because you already learned your lesson.”

“What if I didn’t?”

Chris sighed. Giving a run-down of how he would punish one of his boys wasn’t really what he had planned to be doing at three in the morning.

“Then I’d have to ground you until you did. Or take away something you like.”

“But what if I was really, really bad?”

“What are you trying to ask, Isaac?”

It was the boy’s turn to sigh. Apparently whatever he wanted to ask next was taking a significant amount of courage, if his clenched fists and moving closer to Allison were anything to go by. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he spoke again, his voice uncertain.

“Allison says you never hit her. Even when she’s super bad.”

 _Oh._ So that’s what he was worried about. Chris was quick to agree.

“She’s right, I don’t. No one should hit kids. It doesn’t teach anything, it just makes them scared, and I never want my kids to be scared of me.”

Isaac bit his lower lip, but seemed to loosen up slightly at the confirmation.

“And you wouldn’t lock me up, right? It doesn’t hurt, but it-”

“You’re scared of small spaces. I wouldn’t.”

“Pinky promise?”

This time, when Isaac reached out his pinky finger and Chris moved to return the gesture, he didn’t flinch away. Instead he smiled when Chris’s finger wrapped easily around his, then pulled his hand away only to wind his little arms around Chris’s waist and squeeze tightly.

It was the first time Isaac had initiated this kind of contact, which would have been enough to warm Chris’s heart even without all the previous happenings; while he gladly returned the hug, it took them quite a long moment to remember that Isaac’s pajamas were still wet, as were his sheets, and it was still the middle of the night with two wide-awake children.

“Feeling better, kiddo?” He asked gently, to which Isaac nodded against his side. He wasn’t shaking anymore, which on its own was a win.

“I’m okay.”

“Then give me your pajamas and go take a quick shower while I put these things in the washer.”

The last time Allison had an accident, he’d just wiped her down with some wet wipes and changed her into dry pajamas before bringing her to his bed and dealing with the sheets in the morning, but right now both Allison and Isaac were far too alert to go back to sleep; might as well get everything done while he waited.

From then it wasn’t long before the clothes and sheets were soaking in the washing machine - thankfully, the comforter and the mattress had remained completely dry - while Allison kept Isaac company as he showered and got dressed. The warm steam from the shower had its desired soothing effect: through the closed door, Chris could hear sleepy laughter as the two kids talked, and by the time everything was done, both of them were rubbing their eyes and yawning. Which, considering it was almost 4AM, was exactly what Chris wanted.

“Dad, I wanna sleep in your bed.” Allison pretty much demanded as she stepped out of the bathroom with a fully-clothed Isaac. Chris wasn’t about to say no to that adorable face.

“Bring your pillow and let’s go, princess.” And then, turning to Isaac, “You wanna stay in your bed, or join us? Your choice.”

Isaac didn’t think twice before grabbing onto Allison’s hand and following them into the bigger bedroom.

Chris settled in right in the middle of the bed, lying on his back like he always did, while Allison curled into his chest and rested her hand over his heart. He brought her little hand up to his lips and kissed it once before wrapping his arm around her, eliciting a happy little sigh. Isaac, on the other hand, was a lot more hesitant, slipping under the blanket and looking them over as if trying to figure out where exactly he would fit into the whole deal. After a lot of thinking, he ended up mimicking Allison’s position on the other side, laying his palm not on Chris’s chest, but over Allison’s slightly smaller hand.

“G’night, everyone...” Chris muttered, curling his free arm around the boy and closing his eyes. Two sleepy little voices mumbled back a ‘goodnight’, and from then it was a matter of less than a minute before he was drifting off.

Those people who’d said he was crazy may have had a point. But right now, _lucky_ was the other word that came to mind.


End file.
